An Inquisition About Janine (An Adlock Fanfiiction)
by throughtheparadox
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is confronted by Irene Adler about the headlines he and Janine had been in a few months back.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock enters 221B, his eyes tired and weary with all the arguing he did with Donovan. Good thing Lestrade is on his side. He let out a sigh, as he flicked his scarf off his neck.

Silence. Music to his ears.

"Somebody passed by earlier. Brought these." he heard someone say. He had almost forgotten that she was here. The Woman.

She was comfortably sat on his chair, her hair loose on her shoulders. He caught a scent in the air, not Irene Adler's perfume, but someone else's.

"Molly Hooper was very good company." she added, confirming his thoughts. He walked over to the fridge and saw a package full of eyeballs. He almost forgot about asking her and yet she remembered. She always remembered. He turned and saw Irene studying him.

"You didn't…" he started, a bit worried about the pathologist. Irene Adler can be quite intimidating and her… habits are not something he believed Molly is used to.

Irene smiled, her eyes crinkling as she did. "Oh dear! No. She's not my type. Or rather she's not the type I would want to play with."

Sherlock was relieved. He studied Irene at the distance they were in and he noticed the way her smile was pinched on the edges. She's disturbed, he can tell and yet he can't figure out why.

"She kept you company. What exactly did you do?" he inquired, bothered by Irene's expression. After all this time he can't think of an explanation as to how Irene can be so mysterious even if he has already deciphered her heart.

She stood up and moved to John's chair, knowing that they can't keep a conversation going if Sherlock isn't seated. His eyes followed her movement and got the message.

"Well?" he pushed, sincerely curious. What could Irene and Molly, two very different women, talk about?

Irene curled up on the chair opposite to Sherlock and replied, "She's in love with you, which I believe you are very well aware. Sentimental, that one. Holding on to you despite… all this." She finished the sentence with a sloppy wave towards the detective.

"You're the one to talk about sentiment, Ms. Adler." Sherlock replied, his voice deadpan.

She smiled, still forced he figured. "Oh dear you are always so cold. But I believe there is someone… Hmmm."

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Ah! Augustus Magnussen's assistant… Janine, was it?" Irene mused, her expression unreadable. Sherlock can only read from her tone that she's been itching to ask him this question since she got here.

"It was for a case." He simply said, his gaze fixed on The Woman.

She smirked, shifting from a curl to sitting up straight, her body language indicating controlled annoyance.

"I've seen the headlines, though. Shag-A-Lot Holmes? Quite a disappointment since I was the one who asked first. She should've gotten in line." Irene said, a playful smile on her lips contrasting the cold look on her eyes.

For some reason, Sherlock felt embarrassed. He averted his eyes away from her from a moment but he managed to look back. "Nothing happened. I used her, she used me. The papers were lying."

"I believe it was you who said that love is not a mystery. You seem to know it very well to call it destructive and yet you play with it. It's like playing with fire, Mr. Holmes." Irene replied, her expression still cold.

At this point, Sherlock was clearly confused. Ms. Adler seemed angry and disappointed and yet he doesn't know why. He saw her stand up and march towards his bedroom, probably to lock herself up.

Before she turned away from him completely, Irene glanced back at him and muttered, "You avoid sentiment, Mr. Holmes. And yet look at where we are now."


	2. Remember When?

Sherlock Holmes cannot sleep.

The Woman has not left the room ever since she stormed away from him earlier that day.

He stood up, almost jumping. He couldn't bear not knowing the answers. He walked towards the bedroom door and banged on it.

"Ms. Adler. Open the door. I need to talk to you."

"Leave me alone, Mr. Holmes." he heard her say.

"Ms. Adler, you are upset. I can tell. As for the reason, I have absolutely no clue. You caught me off-guard again." he confessed, giving away a nervous laugh.

For a moment there was no answer. As he was about to knock again, Irene opened the door, her head down. He noticed that her eyes are swollen, he assumed from crying.

"I… Did I wake you?" he asked, thinking that The Woman doesn't want to be asked if she was crying. However, he could recognize the way she looked whenever she's upset from that time he deduced the code of her Vertu phone. She was crying then, as she is now, he thought.

"No." she replied, her voice slightly cracking. "I was… working on something."

"Oh… Sorry to interrupt. I'll… probably best if I leave you to your business now." he muttered, unable to look at her directly. She looked so fragile, so unlike the strong woman who he got used to.

Irene nodded. She was about to shut the door when Sherlock turned back to her.

"Wait." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes?" Irene replied.

"I apologize for whatever I did wrong. I truly do." he told her, meeting her eyes. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, he averted his eyes. "Erm… Good night, Ms. Adler."

He turned away from her but he felt her catch his arm.

"Mr. Holmes, I apologize as well. I don't know what got into me earlier. Snapping at you like that. Can we talk in the living room or are you sleepy?" she asked, letting go of his arm.

He jerked his head to the side, inviting her to go with him. He sat on the couch and was surprised when Irene Adler sat beside him, her head leaning on his shoulder.

"Mr. Holmes, did anything happen between the you and Magnussen's assistant?" she asked frankly.

A bit uncomfortable of their position, Sherlock tried to crane his neck to see her expression and yet the closest he got was the top of her head. She smelled like her perfume, Chopard's Casmir, with a faint touch of smoke and tea, probably because she sleeps on his pillow.

"No. She just said all those things to earn money and to get back at me for using her into getting to Magnussen's office. I told her I was saving it up for the wedding." he plainly stated.

Irene gave a soft laugh. "Really now? Conservative thing, are you?"

Sherlock caught himself laughing as well. "Ah! Ms. Adler. Speaking of Magnussen, when I woke up at the hospital after Mary shot me, there was a rose at my bedside table. I… I didn't get the chance to say thank you."

Irene stopped laughing and looked up at him. "You knew?"

"Well, you left a note. 'W' for The Woman. Plus, your perfume was lingering the air." he pointed out.

She leaned her head against him again and this time, he felt a little bit okay with it.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asked, biting his tongue as he did. What did he want to get out from her? Stupid.

"You are lovely when asleep, Mr. Holmes. Remember when I tucked you in here as I brought back your coat?" she asked sleepily.

He smiled. "Yes, Ms. Adler. I remember. I also remember when you begged me for mercy." He cannot forget that night. The way he beat her at their mind game.

She hit his abdomen lightly with her left hand. "Admit it. You liked seeing me beg."

"And don't forget Karachi. Priceless" he added, laughing silently. He could feel Irene shaking beside him, also laughing.

They fell silent for a moment, both just staring into nothingness.

"Ms. Adler… why were you crying earlier?" he whispered, not being able to help himself. No response.

He leaned in closer to her, hearing a slight hum escaping her lips. She was already asleep.

Feeling rude to wake her, he let her lean to him that night and at some point, he fell asleep as well, his head against hers, the smell of her hair lingering in the depths of his dreams.


End file.
